


Just the Same

by Midnight_Run



Series: Super Dangan Ronpa 2 & Dangan Ronpa 3 Short Stories [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Komahina Secret Exchange, M/M, POV Komaeda Nagito, Post-Dangan Ronpa 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:26:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8696539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight_Run/pseuds/Midnight_Run
Summary: In which Nagito muses on the value of the differences between them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as part of the Komahina Secret Exchange. (Though it's been extended and cleaned up considerably since the original posting.)  
> Written for: minteaowo
> 
> Prompt: Post Hope Side: Maybe something where Hinata and Kamukura both share the same body, switching between their consciousnesses. And Komaeda just loving both of them for their different personalities. (Can be fluff or smutty, either is fine with me ^^)
> 
> (So, this was meant to be fluff, but that's not my best thing so it turned out like this. I tried my best. -.-)

_“There's a sorrow and pain in everyone's life, but every now and then there's a ray of light that melts the loneliness in your heart and brings comfort like hot soup and a soft bed.”_  
― Hubert Selby Jr., Requiem for a Dream

**+++**

Nagito kicked his feet out over the water.

The sun was bright even as it set and the sunlight was warm against the bare skin of his arms, ankles and face. His fingers curled around the jagged edges of the boards that made up the end of the pier as he stared off into the distance with only the soft rhythmic crash of the waves against the short for company.

Occasionally those waves would splash hard up against the supports of the pier’s end to sprinkle cool water across the bare, sensitive skin of his soles, but mostly there was just the damp, pleasant push of the ocean breeze rustling his clothes and lifting his hair as the sun slowly sank beneath the distant horizon.

“You didn’t take your medicine.”

“It’s pretty out here,” he replied, not an answer, but then it hadn’t been a question.

Kamukura rarely seemed to feel the need to ask questions to get the answers he was seeking, the burden or privilege of his vast array of talents.

Besides, they’d had this conversation many times before.

It always began and ended the same way.

“Your condition will worsen more quickly without it.” Kamukura said, right on cue, as he settled down beside him on the pier’s edge.

He didn’t answer that not-a-question either.

There was little enough point, in answering the question or taking the medication. His luck would either hold or it wouldn’t and the medicine would have little impact either way, a fact that Kamukura probably knew just as well as he did. He felt better today than he’d felt in a while, but that meant nothing. He was living on borrowed time, had been for years, so he’d rather leave it to his luck and Kamukura’s to decide whether he would live through another night.

He’d always trusted in luck to see him through, there was no point in changing now.

“I don’t suppose one of your talents relates to origami? I’m terrible at it.” He commented instead, gesturing to the stack of yellow paper pinned down by a rock and the sad limp boats being tossed about on the wavering sea below.

They were all taking on water so it wouldn’t be long before they joined their brothers below the ocean waves.

Kamukura didn’t reply, just picked up one of the papers and began folding it with quick, deft motions.

Of course it was.

“It’s not a talent,” Kamukura said softly, as if sensing the thought. “Hajime used to fold origami as a hobby. Something to vent his frustrations. He was terrible at it. I’m only better because I can better analyze the angles necessary and manipulate the paper more deftly than he could.”

“Oh,” he whispered, taking the boat offered to him with trembling hands.

He didn’t like when he spoke about Hinata like that, so intimately.

It was easier when he could pretend that Kamukura was someone else completely, even if it wasn’t true.

They were so different that sometimes it was an easy thing to do.

The boat was neat, well-made, sturdy.

He turned and dropped the little boat into the water below, watched intently as it bobbed across the waves, swept out to sea against all odds. His luck carrying it to some far off destination.

He wasn’t quite sure whether he was sad or glad to see it go.

Eventually the boat had gone far enough that it was lost beneath the burden of distance and fading light as the sun finally vanished below the horizon leaving a brilliant glow behind that would fade soon enough. The air was already cooling as if mourning the passage of the day, wearing away at the warmth the sun had left behind. In his room, it would be stifling hot, the ocean breeze a distant memory as the fan churned lazily overhead doing little to cool that lonely space.

Kamukura sat beside him, still as a picture in his well-pressed suit looking as remote and untouchable as the moon. It was sometimes difficult to tell why Kamukura bothered to seek out his presence. Whether it was obligation or some level of enjoyment that brought him to sit beside him for minutes or hours at a time. 

“Will you stay?” He asked finally, keeping his gaze carefully turned towards the water as if he were still gazing at the memory of Kamukura’s little boat. It was easier to ask when he wasn’t looking at him, not that he’d be able to read anything of his reaction to the question in his face. Kamukura was still difficult to read at the best of times.

Sometimes he thought he asked Kamukura to stay for Kamukura’s sake. That even though he didn’t show it, Kamukura liked to be asked, liked to feel welcome, wanted.

More often he realized he asked for himself though it always made him feel a little sick and squirmy inside to do so. He still didn’t quite believe that he deserved company, anyone’s company really, but he always asked just the same. It was easier to ask now, much easier than it had ever been before to reach out into empty space trying to catch a lucky break.

He's not altogether certain why that is, but he thinks it's all because of Hinata… and Kamukura.

He was pretty sure the others didn’t know.

That they hadn't realized or had chosen to ignore it if they had.

Hadn’t recognized the way they switched places, personalities flickering in and out like Christmas lights dancing in the dark.

_Kamukura._

Hinata.

_Kamukura._

He didn't blame them for not noticing, after all they had managed to hide it well, choosing distance and weak smiles over confession. It was pretty obvious they didn’t want the others to know though he’d never asked why and he wasn’t sure either of them would have told him even if he had.

Still, it was probably mostly luck that no one else had noticed, lucky he'd been the only one who could tell.

He liked it.

Liked being the only one who knew.

Liked being trusted like that.

Liked how they hadn’t even bothered to try to hide it from him.

It was nice.

He'd never had anyone share a secret with him before.

It was a warm feeling.

Eventually, at some point, after they'd picked up the animator that made their imposter so happy, it had leveled out and the times between had became longer, less the blinking of christmas lights and more like the turn of the earth.

Hinata.

Kamukura.

Hinata.

Kamukura.

So much the same and so different all at once.

Kamukura didn’t answer his query, but he didn’t leave either. Not even after the gold and red tinged evening had faded into night leaving them to the mercy of the brilliant shine of stars millions and millions of miles away.

This was nice too.

The world was wide and the ocean was deep and sometimes he thought about diving in and letting it carry him away, seeing where his luck would take him from here, if there would be a future or only death to greet him at the end of such a journey.

They sat in silence.

It was strange, but when he was with Kamukura... it always felt... easy.

Hinata... Hinata was complicated. Every moment with him felt vital and important; every word, good or bad, squeezed tight around his heart like a vise.

When he was with Kamukura it was different.

Simpler.

As if nothing he could do would be weird or unexpected or unwelcome.

It was a strangely comforting feeling.

It had been Hinata who had brought him back. Caught his hand and raised him up out of the dark. Hinata who had made him believe it was okay to be there. To exist in the world. To want things. Hinata who had made him feel... wanted, necessary in a way he'd never thought possible.

But it was Kamukura who made it easy to stay, to continue living even on the bad days.

And there were bad days.

Days where despair threatened to swallow him.

Days where everything hurt.

Days where he said a thousand hurtful things he did and didn’t mean until Hinata looked ready to break or while Kamukura stared back at him with that same blank expression and all his words slid off his surface to crash and shatter across the floor.

Days when he didn’t remember who he was, who they were, where they were, why any of it was important at all.

After all, Kamukura was talented, so talented, even after everything that had happened, but he wasn't a miracle worker.

Still, he had plenty of good days too.

He'd kissed Hinata for the first time on one of those good days.

They'd been on the ship as evening fell and the festivities had died down. Some of their companions had gone to sleep and some had left in search of privacy for other reasons. There were still a few small groups lingering around the ship’s deck, but they all seemed distant. As if all those people belonged to another world that existed far beyond them.

They'd spent most of the afternoon and evening seated side by side and every moment it had felt as if his heart might burst, as if he were the happiest he'd ever been and might ever be just because they'd chosen to stay so close to him.

Sometimes he'd glanced over and found himself meeting Kamukura’s level gaze, but far more often it had been Hinata smiling back at him, so soft and fond… it had been difficult to believe it was real.

That _he_ was real.

That this wasn’t all just a dream his dying mind had conjured up to make the passage easier.

“Not sleepy?” Hinata had asked as the hour grew late and later still, his voice pitched quiet so as not to wake Akane who had eaten her fill of meat and promptly passed out across the deck nearby.

“Mm, not yet.”

“Do you mind if I stay here with you until you are?”

“Not at all, but it might be a while. I don't sleep very much.”

“I don't mind.”

“Okay.”

They'd sat together for hours, speaking quietly. About silly things mostly: places they'd been, music, movies they'd seen… anything at all to prolong the conversation, to keep it going just a little longer.

Finally all the other lingering conversations onboard had died away and all that was left was the slap of the ocean waves against the hull.

“Komaeda?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

Hinata shrugged, “Just… I don't know. Being here with me… like this.”

“Should I thank you too?”

“Don't make it weird.”

“So I shouldn't do this?”

He wasn't sure what mad impulse prompted him to lean forward and press his lips to Hinata’s anymore than he was sure why Hinata didn't shove him away.

Still wasn't at all sure why Hinata’s trembling hands had closed around his shoulders to hold him in place or how one kiss had turned into two then three.

Wasn’t sure how he’d ended up pressed back against the deck, gasping for air as Hinata’s mouth worked a warm, sloppy path across his throat.

He wasn't sure if it was luck that pulled them together or something else entirely, but he was thankful for it. Thankful for everything that had happened between them, the good and the bad. Thankful as he stared up at the stars that day even when the kisses slowed and stopped completely and he’d blinked his eyes open to find Kamukura staring down at him solemnly with their mismatched eyes.

“You should sleep,” he’d commented as the cool ocean breeze shivered across the cooling damp Hinata’s mouth had left behind. “We’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Hinata made him want to be better than he was, made him want to _try_.

But it was Kamukura who made it feel like he didn't always have to succeed. That he still had value even when he failed.

Hinata loved him. He knew that. Had heard it in his words, in the way he curled around him every night as if he could somehow shield him from the passage of time. As if he could keep him if he just held on tightly enough.

But Kamukura _understood_ him.

They were the same person.

But they were so different too.

And he loved them both.

Kamukura was still as sculpted marble beside him as if he could sit in exactly the same place, in exactly the same pose with exactly the same expression for a thousand years.

Hinata had always fidgeted when they sat together like this, those few brief, precious moments back in the few days they'd had together in that island fantasy before Hinata had learned how unworthy he was of his esteem.

He didn't fidget so much anymore or, if he did, he didn't fidget around him.

He wasn't certain what that meant or if it meant anything at all.

“He missed you,” Kamukura commented, apropos of nothing, voice as soft and flat as it ever was, completely ignoring how badly he’d startled at the sudden, unprompted admission.

He must be dying if Kamukura was making small talk about such inconsequential Hinata-related things.

“Even when you were still there, he missed you. The idea of you being gone… he hates it.”

“Ah,” he murmured, unsure what else to say, but confident as ever that Kamukura would be able to read the impact of his plainly spoken words in the tension of his body.

He tipped his head back to stare up at all those distant stars, wondering how many of them were dead and gone, their light a phantom still shining in this distant place long years after they’d faded to nothing.

Kamukura had fallen silent again, but he hadn’t truly expected any further confirmation.

He always chose his words carefully and never repeated himself.

It was something to think about.

Something to ask Hinata about later maybe.

Or maybe it was just something he was meant to know and keep to himself.

The air was cooler than it had been and he shivered, drawing his knees up to his chest and resting his cheek against them.

Sometimes, when they sat like this, he thought about pushing Kamukura off into the water, just to see what he’d do, but if he succeeded he would always know that it was only because Kamukura allowed it.

Maybe at the end, the very end, he would give it a try.

Push him over and then allow his body to tumble in after. Maybe for a moment he’d see him beneath the water and perhaps it would fool his dying brain into thinking there was something more beyond this place and this time and these boys he barely knew and often thought he didn’t deserve to love.

“You won’t die today.”

Kamukura’s voice was as confident as it ever was and he sometimes wondered if he was still alive because of his luck or because Kamukura Izuru had willed it to be so and the universe had bowed to his whim.

“How about tomorrow?” He asked, because it was getting late and the moon was high.

Tomorrow could be happening at any moment.

“Not tomorrow,” Kamukura answered, his voice quiet and matter of fact. “But soon if you keep refusing to obey your treatment plan.”

“Ah,” he whispered again and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

It explained why he was still here, he supposed, why he was being so uncharacteristically chatty.

No one wanted to be alone.

Not really.

“I’m sure everyone will be relieved,” he commented, forcing a smile he didn’t feel, face still turned to stare across the moonlit waves.

Kamukura answered with a silence that felt like confirmation. Hinata would have lied to him or tried to convince him otherwise even if he wasn't sure what was true.

He was well aware that he made the others uncomfortable sometimes, most times.

He didn’t need Kamukura’s talents to see that.

He wondered vaguely if Kamakura might be a little lonely without him. He might be trash and terrible company, but at least he saw them for who they were.

He sometimes thought that was the real reason Kamukura sought him out and spent so much time beside him.

“I don’t know how to grieve,” Kamukura replied, voice carrying what could almost be a note of confusion.

“Well, I wouldn’t worry about that,” he laughed, because the idea of Kamukura grieving over him, stolid face slipping into a grimace more constipated than sad was a surprisingly delightful picture. “I’m not the kind of person people grieve for, certainly not someone like you. You’ll hardly even notice I’m gone, I’m sure.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“Of course,” he replied, glancing back down into the dark water.

He's still smiling but it feels brittle, utterly breakable.

“Forget you,” Kamukura finished and his voice sounds weird, softer and more hesitant than he’s ever heard it. “I wouldn’t forget you.”

He can’t look at him, doesn’t want to see the expression on his face. Not now, not with those words turning cartwheels in his chest. He might expire on the spot, thinks it might even be for the best if he did.

“I don’t know, I’m very forgettable. I mean, I even forget about me sometimes,” he meant to laugh carelessly, but it came out strange and strained and far too high for the nonchalance he’d been trying for.

“I will remember everything about you. The sound of your laugh and the stretch of your smile and how it almost never reaches your eyes. I will remember your talent. I will remember sitting beside you like this. I will remember that I couldn't save you.”

“You shouldn’t, I’m not-”

“I will remember. I don’t know how to grieve for you, so I will carry you with me instead. Every detail. I can do that much.”

“Would you do the same for the others?” As attempts to lighten the mood went, this one was a failure.

“The others are not you.”

“No, they’re-“

A finger touched his lips, silencing whatever he would have said, smothering even the thought beneath the weight of his own surprise. “They’re not you.”

The first time he kisses Kamukura is at the end of a pier surrounded by the remains of a dozen soggy paper boats.

It's tentative and dry, just the barest touch of lips. It’s chaste in a way Hinata’s kisses never were, gentle in a way he wasn’t even aware Kamukura was capable of.

And when he draws back Hinata is there to smile at him and press their foreheads together. “If you think he's going to let you die after that, you're going to be disappointed. Might as well give in and start taking your medicine or he’ll start shoving it down your throat.”

“I can't live forever,” he'd replied laughing, the sound a little broken around the knot of emotion in his throat that feels like it might choke him.

Hinata’s fingers slipped beneath the edge of his shirt to spread wide across his back and it feels like a promise.

“Oh, I don't know,” Hinata murmured, leaning in to steal a kiss. “We’re pretty lucky.”

They were so different.

But he loved them both just the same.

**Author's Note:**

> As usual, you can find me on [tumblr](https://midnight-run-amok.tumblr.com/).


End file.
